Forever People (pt 5)

True eases onto a stool, resting his elbows on the bar, hiding his mouth with his hands. Mom rolls up her magazine and shoves it into her back pocket, her face as grey as cement in the morning deadlight – she gets to her feet with a groan, looking around the empty bar. Where’s your buddies?

True shrugs. Is Jude here? he says, his voice barely audible.

Mom doesn’t answer, not taking her eyes off of him; she goes to a drawer under the bar and pulls Starburst from it, putting them in a pile like birdseed.

Go on, she says, talking to the kid like you would a stray dog in the park. Go on now and eat ‘em, I know you gotta be hungry, stupid.

Where’s Jude? he asks again.

Where’s Jude? Mom repeats. I know why you’re looking for him. He wasn’t like that before he went to war. He got hurt real bad but he was a good boy. She drinks her mug to the bottom and refills it from the closest bottle, glancing up to the tv bolted to the corner, its screen made mostly of snow and ghostly images. The news said they found a kid in the river, Mom says to nobody. They found him stuck in the ice by the dam.

A door opens down a hall and shuffling steps bring Jude into view; Mom stops talking, lowering her head and taking her magazines to a nearby table. Where’s Dixie? Jude says, turning on the faucet and drinking deep.

I don’t know, True says. He said you were going away.

Is that what he said. Jude scratches at his beard, yawning, and gestures tiredly for True to follow him. Sodomites, Mom calls after them. Fuck you, Jude says back, closing the door – there is nothing in there but a mattress covered with Army blankets and piles of clothes; Jude pushes the mattress over with his foot, retrieving his stash from a hole in the floor, and when he stands sees that True is on his knees, reaching for Jude’s zipper.

Jude tells him he doesn’t have to this time, dropping the paper-wrapped caps wrapped into the kid’s palm; he pockets them like lightning but doesn’t get up. I want to, he says, reaching again. This time Jude lets him, because he’s beautiful. So beautiful.

True is almost to the front door of the bar when Mom stops him. Dixie called here, she says, not looking up from her reading. While you were busy back there. She takes a long drink. He’s in lock up. He said to tell one of you to come get him out.

The kid asks her for a number and she guesses at one, having some experience with bail; he looks at his feet, calculating, and walks back to Jude, who heard everything and has the money waiting, holding it while he sits naked on his mattress.

Shut the door, he says, smiling with every tooth he’s got. Stay awhile.

*